


The King and I

by codswallop



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: F/M, Ficlet, Fluff, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-03
Updated: 2013-08-03
Packaged: 2017-12-22 07:48:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/910697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/codswallop/pseuds/codswallop
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Martin, Douglas, and Arthur confront the eternal question of how best to cope with out-of-control child royalty on a small aeroplane during an extended flight delay.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The King and I

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fengirl88](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fengirl88/gifts).



> For Fen, who requested "Maxi dealing with the developing Martin/Theresa relationship (and/or more of Arthur versus Maxi)" - many thanks for the prompt. <3

The King of Liechtenstein needed a good smack on the posterior, in Douglas’s opinion. He’d been running up and down Gerti’s aisle for the better part of an hour while they waited for take-off clearance, waving various items he’d managed to snatch from the galley and shrieking with giddy laughter, totally ignoring Arthur’s cries of dismay and Theresa’s half-hearted attempts to get him to settle down.

“He’s been much better behaved than this when I’ve seen him recently,” Martin said apologetically, when Arthur’s hat sailed into the cockpit for the third time and hit the instrument panel. “I expect it’s the excitement of going home again. Christmas holidays, you know, spirits running high. He’s really not usually this much of a...a...”

“Menace?” Douglas suggested. “Total nuisance? Insufferable brat?”

“Douglas! He’s only a child, after all. Besides, the exercise is good for him--he’ll probably wear himself out and sleep for the whole flight after this.”

“Assuming there is a flight through which to sleep,” Douglas said gloomily.

Martin caught at Maxi’s arm the next time he came veering past the flight deck. “Maxi--er, Your Highness, that is, it’s time to sit down in your seat now, all right? We should be cleared for takeoff any minute now, and we won’t be able to taxi down the runway until everyone on the plane is--”

“Don’t speak to me, commoner!” Maxi shrilled. “You’re breaking sixteen laws by addressing me directly without my permission! I want to sit in the captain’s seat now. Move! This instant!”

“Now, Maxi,” Martin said, with a creditable attempt at parental firmness. “We’re friends now, you and me, hmm? But remember what we’ve talked about: when we’re on the plane, I’m the captain, and the captain--”

“New rules! I’m the captain now! You are no longer in charge, commoner. Give me your seat!”

Maxi was still giggling, but in the wild-eyed hysterical way of a child who’d been recently overindulged with too many freedoms and not enough sleep, and which never, ever ended happily, in Douglas’s experience.

Martin and Douglas both peered hopefully down the cabin toward Theresa. She was reclining in 4A in an exhausted slump with an open magazine draped over her face, and seemed unlikely to come to their rescue any time soon. 

“You are both nothing but little commoners and I am a king!” Maxi crowed, sensing weakness and going in for the kill. “You WILL obey me!”

“Goodness,” Douglas said. “Young Genghis Khan lives and walks among us.”

“That’s enough from you, Douglas,” Martin warned him. “And enough from you, too, Maxi. Go and sit in one of the passenger seats. Playtime’s over.”

“No! You can’t tell me what to do! You have to do what I say, or I’ll order my sister to stop going out on dates with you, and she’ll _really_ have to obey me because I’m HER king!”

Theresa had actually fallen asleep, Douglas surmised, or this would never stand. He glanced over at Martin, who had gone very red, and decided it was time to intervene. 

“Listen up, _your majesty_ ,” he began, but was interrupted by Arthur, who appeared in the doorway to the flight deck just then with his battered hat in hand.

“If your sister doesn’t go on dates with the Skip anymore, then you probably won’t be flying on our plane again,” he told Maxi. “And that means I won’t be able to show you my secret trick of making extremely rude noises using cocktail straws and coffee filters.”

“I’m not allowed to make rude noises,” Maxi informed him. 

“ _Not allowed!_ ” Arthur said. “I thought you made the rules. What’s the point of being king if you aren’t allowed to make funny rude noises now and then?”

“It is unbefitting to my social stature and heritage, and will undermine the authority vested in me by the people,” Maxi intoned, as if reciting a lesson.

“Gosh,” Arthur said. “What happens if you make one by accident? Do they de-throne you? Well, anyway, I’m really sorry to hear that. I’ll be hanging out in row 2 if anyone needs me, guys,” he told Martin and Douglas. “With some cocktail straws and coffee filters. All by myself. Glad I’m not a king.” He pried one of his eyelids wide open and closed the other one in the grotesque Arthur version of a wink as he backed away from the flight deck.

“He’s only trying to get me to sit down in my seat and leave you alone,” Maxi said. “And it WON’T WORK!” he called out toward the cabin.

A lonely rude noise drifted back to them in response. Maxi wavered visibly. “He is ridiculous and also _wrong_ ,” he said finally. “I’m going to go and talk to him,” and marched out.

“Saved by Arthur,” Douglas mused, when the only sounds to be heard aboard Gerti were a chorus of parps and blats and soft intermittent giggles. “Peace on earth, goodwill and rude noises to all men, regardless of their social stature and heritage. Still, that won’t last long. How about a bit of sleeping pill in his apple juice?”

“Mm, tempting,” Martin said. “But I think drugging my girlfriend’s small brother is probably not the best way to be going on if I want to keep my invitation to the castle for Christmas dinner.”

“Oh, _girlfriend_ , is it now?” Douglas sat up straighter in the co-pilot’s seat. “ _And_ spending the holiday together? Well! This calls for--”

It called for excessive teasing, clearly, but Martin looked so pink and pleased that Douglas didn’t have the heart--and then ATC radioed in their long-awaited clearance, rescuing them all.


End file.
